For the last couple of weeks I’ve been doing weight training with my Uncle Nigel.

This is all so that my inflated vanity will be somewhat justified.

Actually my arms jiggle when I sneeze and that makes me cry.

For the last 3 weeks I’ve been running 2 miles in 18-20 minutes and then doing about an hour of weight training. Uncle Nigel makes me do push-ups, tricep dips, squats,dead lifts, military presses, bicep curls, hammer curls, crunches, mountain climbers, leg raises, and hip raises. When we started I would be so sore that the next morning I couldn’t even squat to pee, but now it feels really good. It hurts like death, but in a good way. 

No, I cannot explain that last sentence.

I’m not a weight lifting type of person, so I need to be constantly motivated in order to finish a set. Uncle Nigel usually motivates me with humor. For instance, when I was doing tear drops (lying on your back and using your triceps and lats to pull the weight from behind your head to your chest) I started to tire out. I only had about 3-4 more to go, but I was already grunting like a rhino in labor from the effort of lifting a 10lb weight.  We were on the patio, it was starting to storm outside, and I was ready to quit.

Just as I was ready to give up the grunt and drop the weight, a flash of lightning tore across the sky and Nigel, quick as ever, said, “Don’t give up, that’s excellent form! Look! Even God took a picture!”

Well, if God wants me to finish, how can I say no?